


I am human and I need to be loved (just like everybody else does)

by coldflashwavebaby



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Charmed (TV) Fusion, Barry Wally and Iris are siblings, Demon Leonard Snart, F/M, M/M, Protective Mick Rory, Whitelighter Mick Rory, Witch Barry, Witch Iris, Witch Wally
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-15 11:42:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16062392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldflashwavebaby/pseuds/coldflashwavebaby
Summary: Nora and Joe didn’t tell them about the Charmed Ones, three witches joined together by an unbreakable bond of love and family, making them the strongest witches ever to live and the only ones who could conjure the greatest spell of all--the Power of Three.Nora, fearing for her children and the warlocks and demons that would hunt them once they came into their powers, cast a spell that would bind their magic until they were ready.What she didn’t expect was that, even after her death, they still wouldn’t be ready to shoulder the responsibility. They’d have to learn and grow on their own.----A Charmed AU





	1. Chapter 1

As Barry flew through the air, preparing to make impact with the wall above the stairs, he reconsidered the choices made in his life to get to this point.

 

Maybe it was following Wally upstairs to the attic, only three weeks after the death of Nora Allen-West, where the pair of them found an old book that they carried down to show their sister, Iris.

 

Maybe it was when Wally opened the Book of Shadows and jokingly read a spell aloud, unknowingly unbinding their magic.

 

Maybe it was the revelation that Barry, his stepsister, and their half-brother were all witches, joined together by the bloodlines of two powerful magical families--the Thompsons and the Wests. They were what was called the ‘Charmed Ones’ aka super powerful witches that every demonic or warlock creep wanted to murder.

 

Maybe it was giving up his lease and moving back home with his brother and sister, while their father moved into an apartment closer to the station and without all the memories of his wife.

 

He wasn’t sure, and he honestly didn’t have time to think about it. Right now, he was being thrown into a wall by some demon of the week while Iris prepared the vanquishing potion in the kitchen and Wally used his powers to throw the couch.

 

“Barry, freeze him!”

 

Barry rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t work on demons and warlocks!”

 

Wally cursed, barely diving to the side fast enough to avoid an energy ball. “Then blow him up!”

 

“I can’t control that yet! I could blow _you_ up!”

 

Another energy ball impacted near Wally, this time close enough to scorch his shoelaces. “Just _do it!”_

 

Whispering a quick prayer, Barry held up his hands and motioned to the demon. Nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing.

 

Then, he took a deep breath and focused all his anger on the demon. Without even making a motion, the demon froze into place, shaking violently, until suddenly, it exploded into nothing. Barry ducked down to avoid the ooze flying at him. Wally wasn’t so lucky.

 

“Dude!” He looked up at Barry, his face half covered in dark ooze.

 

“I got it!” Iris came running in the kitchen with a vial of vanquishing potion in her hand, only to find the foyer destroyed, goo all over the walls, and Wally scowling at Barry.

 

She frowned. “What did I miss?”

 

\----------

 

Nora Thompson and Joe West were best friends since diapers. Both being from prominent families of magic, the two were thick as thieves all through their childhoods and teen years, until they both met their future spouses--Nora met Henry Allen, and Joe met Francine Williams.

 

They both remained friends, even raising their children, Barry and Iris, down the street from each other. Then, Henry died mysteriously when Barry and Iris were two and Francine passed less than a year later from cancer.

 

Two years after, Joe and Nora married and the family moved into the Allen family mansion. Nine months later, Wally was born.

 

The three siblings were as close as could be growing up. They never saw their family as anything but perfect, and never saw one another as anything but the truth--they were family.

 

Too bad that Nora and Joe didn’t tell them about the Charmed Ones, three witches joined together by an unbreakable bond of love and family, making them the strongest witches ever to live and the only ones who could conjure the greatest spell of all--the Power of Three.

 

Nora, fearing for her children and the warlocks and demons that would hunt them once they came into their powers, cast a spell that would bind their magic until they were ready.

 

What she didn’t expect was that, even after her death, they still wouldn’t be ready to shoulder the responsibility. They’d have to learn and grow on their own.

 

Barry still wasn’t sure how they were supposed to do that. It’s not like the Book of Shadows had directions on the proper ways to be Charmed Ones. So far, the only thing they’d mastered is how to completely destroy the house.

 

Not that he was complaining…

 

Barry bit his lip as he watched Mick Rory, their on-call handyman, stretched his arms above his head to measure the shattered frame above the doorway. His shirt rode up with his arms, revealing his stomach and lower back in a way that had Barry practically salivating. God, Iris was getting one hell of a Christmas gift for hiring Mick. Ten out of ten would recommend, five stars.

 

Not to mention he did a great job fixing things and didn’t ask too many questions.

 

“I’ll have to replace the entire door frame and the section of wall above it,” Mick grunted, pulling Barry out of his lustful daze. “Should only take me a day or two.”

 

He didn’t give Barry a price--he never did. As long as they fed him while he worked and kept some beers in the fridge, Mick fixed whatever they needed for free.

 

Mick dropped the tape measurer and turned to Barry. “That work?”

 

Barry nodded. “Yeah, sure. No problem.” He blushed when Mick gave him a wink and bent down to grab his tool bag.

 

“Alright, I’ll be back with some supplies in an hour or so. See ya then, doll?”

 

Barry sighed. “Nah, I actually have to get to work. I have the evening shift today at the CCPD. Iris should be home soon, though, and Wally’s in the kitchen writing a paper if you need him.”

 

He hoped he wasn’t imagining Mick looking disappointed as he gave a short nod and headed out the front door. Barry licked his lips, watching until the door closed behind the handyman.

 

“Hate it when he goes, love it when he leaves!”

 

Barry turned to see Wally leaned back on the back legs of his chair as far as he could, a shit-eating grin on his lips. If Barry had better control of his new powers, he would’ve used them on his brother right then. Instead, he stuck his tongue out and grabbed his bag. “Tell Iris to come in through the side door when she gets home. Mick’s going to be working in the foyer, and I don’t want her getting hurt.”

 

“Or Mick to flirt with her, too?” Wally teased. Barry rolled his eyes and ignored his brother.

 

“Love you!” he called behind him as he strode out the door. Joe was supposed to be picking him up out in front of the manor to take him to work. He hadn’t been inside the house since Nora died and refused to even talk about magic, much less help out with magical problems. His cruiser was parked at the curb, and Barry hurried over to climb inside.

 

“Hey, Joe.”

 

“Hey, Bare. Saw that handyman leaving the house. Get another busted pipe?” That was their code for ‘is it magic related’.

 

Barry nodded. “Damn things keep breaking stuff. Luckily, Mick fixes things for free.”

 

Joe snorted. “I’m sure he does.”

 

To anyone else, it would seem like Joe disapproved of Mick for the normal reason--a strange man going in and out of his children’s house for free. But ever since he discovered magic, Barry could tell when Joe’s problems were more than surface issues. Usually, there was a magical explanation, like Captain Singh’s husband being a witch.

 

“Dad, there isn’t anything about Mick I should worry about, right?” he asked tentatively. There was no doubt in Barry’s mind that if Mick posed a threat, Joe would tell him, magical boycott or not.

 

Joe shook his head though. “Nah. He just...doesn’t seem the type, is all.”

 

There was more to that sentence than Joe was saying, but that was all Barry would be getting from him. So, he settled in and enjoyed the ride, discussing other things instead--Wally’s progress on his master’s degree, the latest column that Picture News was giving Iris, the way that Barry’s partner Julian was about to drive him up the wall, but not before Joe’s new partner Ralph did.

 

When they walked into the precinct, Barry already knew his day was going to be busy. Detective Dibny was leading Mark Mardon in, hands cuffed, with a satisfied smirk on his face.

 

Barry groaned. That could mean only one thing.

 

“Barry Allen.” He turned to see Leonard Snart, the best defense attorney in Central City and Mark Mardon’s legal counsel of choice. Also, the most shameless flirt he’d ever met. “Fancy seeing you here.”

 

Barry rolled his eyes. “I work here, Snart. I’m always here.”

 

Snart smirked, his eyes tracing up Barry’s body. “Oh, I know.” He followed Mark Mardon and Ralph past Barry, giving him a wink as he passed.

 

Beside him, Joe was practically seething. “That son of a bitch. I should file a complaint.”

 

“Just leave it, Joe.” Barry sighed. “He’s not worth the trouble.”

 

If he were being honest, Barry kind of enjoyed the attention. He wasn’t a conventionally attractive man--he was lanky, messy haired, and baby-faced. Snart, however, was beautiful, with his striking blue eyes, squared jaw, and stance that said he didn’t care what anyone thought about him. To have someone like them look over him in such a desiring way…

 

“Barry!”

 

He startled out of his thoughts. Joe was staring at him with a raised eyebrow, and Barry had to force down the desire to blush.

 

“You stay away from Snart and his kind, understand?”

 

Barry smirked. “You mean lawyers? That’s kind of difficult in a police station, Joe.”

 

Joe scoffed and leveled a glare at the back of the defense lawyer. Snart was the only lawyer Joe acted like that with. Maybe it was something about the Snart family? Barry couldn’t even begin to guess. There wasn’t much known about Leonard Snart, except that he was the best defense lawyer in the city, and he knew it. If he was your lawyer, you could get away with mass murder.

 

And, for some reason, every time he came into the precinct, Snart’s eyes were all over Barry, and he almost always offered to take him out. Barry used the old ‘conflict of interest’ excuse, but in all honesty, that was the only reason he never said yes.

 

Snart had dated almost every assistant, receptionist, and a beat cop or two in the station, and from what Barry heard, it was the best night of their lives. Snart never did repeats, but he always treated his dates like they were something special.

 

Barry headed up to his lab to start his day, brushing all thoughts of hot handymen and charming lawyers from his head. There was someone already waiting in his lab when he walked inside.

 

“Hey, Bare.”

 

“Hey, Eddie.”

 

Detective Eddie Thawne smiled brightly. “Iris told me about the demon attack. I wanted to make sure you were alright. She said that you and Wally both took some pretty bad hits.”

 

Eddie was dating Iris, but was also Barry’s ex-boyfriend. That was a long time ago--freshman year of high school, lasted less than six months before they decided it was better to be friends--but Eddie always looked after the West-Allen family, and he’d always been in love with Iris. He was the only person outside of the family who knew about magic.

 

“We’re fine. Demon barely touched us, and I blew him up.”

 

Eddie’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

 

Barry shrugged. “It’s a new power. We’ve all started developing them, just mine is the most violent. I can’t even jerk my hands suddenly anymore without being afraid of blowing things up.”

 

“What powers does Iris have now?”

 

“I think they called it ‘Psychic Reflection’ in the book,” Barry answered with a frown. “It’s like...she can share visions and memories by touching someone.”

 

Realization passed over Eddie’s face. “So _that’s_ why I’ve been having dreams about taking bubble baths with you and Wally…”

 

Barry broke out into a loud cackle. “She can’t control it yet. Sorry.”

 

“Nah, it’s fine,” Eddie assured. “You were both very adorable children.”

 

Barry laughed even harder, walking around his desk to grab his case files for the day.

 

Eddie cleared his throat after a few minutes. “I heard that Mardon got arrested.”

 

Barry stopped and sighed. Here it was.

 

“I know Snart is his lawyer. He hasn’t been harassing you, has he? Because you can report him--”

 

Barry rolled his eyes. “I can handle Snart. He flirts mildly with me. It’s not like he gropes me or makes lewd comments.”

 

“I know,” Eddie grumbled, “but I just don’t like him. There’s something about him that rubs me the wrong way. Like, I’m almost positive he’s evil.”

 

Barry raised an eyebrow. “Eddie, I’ve faced evil. I don’t get that vibe off of Snart. Mildly irritating? Sure. Arrogant? Absolutely. But I wouldn’t say evil.”

 

“Are you sure? I can see that guy being a demon.”

 

Barry shook his head. “If he were a demon, he would’ve tried something already. He’s been in and out of here for years and not once has he tried anything.”

 

It was the truth. Len loved to flirt and tease, but he never made Barry feel unsafe or uncomfortable. In fact, he’d yelled at some of the perps coming in that screamed out at the civilians in the precinct. He didn’t like cops, but he believed in protecting people who were innocent, to an extent. It just so happened that he believed in innocent until proven guilty.

 

Eddie still didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he patted Barry on the shoulder and left him to his work.


	2. Chapter 2

Wally liked to listen to music while he worked on his final project for school. He was the only West-Allen kid who hadn’t graduated college yet, and he had a lot to live up to. Iris was an award-winning writer at the college paper, and Barry graduated top of his class. Not that Wally was a bad student, but he needed to be as good as his siblings. 

 

He reached into his bag for one of the books he was siting, only to groan. He must have left it at the library last time he was there. He ripped his headphones out of his ears. 

 

“Mick?” he called out. The handyman grunted an acknowledgment. “I’m going to the library. Iris won’t be home for another hour or so, so you’ll be here by yourself, okay?”

 

There was another grunt, which Wally took as a yes. He threw his laptop in his bag and headed out the kitchen door. It was weird how quick they all were to trust Mick. It took a while before they were comfortable leaving  _ Eddie  _ in the house alone, and he was one of Barry and Iris’ best friends. But there was something honest and genuine about Mick that made Wally and Iris trust him, and something about his ass that made Barry trust him. 

 

Wally snorted. Barry had it bad. He went to unlock his car, only to realize he’d left his keys in the house. He sighed. It was just going to be that kind of day. 

 

The front door was already unlocked, and his keys were in the bowl by the coat rack. He could probably slip in, grab the keys, and slip out without bothering Mick too much. He ran up the stairs to the door and opened the door as quietly as possible. When he stepped inside, though, he froze in place, eyes wide open.

 

Mick was in the entrance, where he should be, fixing the wall above the doorway to the living room. Only, instead of standing on a ladder like he should’ve been, he was  _ floating above the floor.  _

 

“WHAT THE HELL?” 

 

Mick startled and fell to the floor. When he saw Wally, he sighed heavily. “Shit.” 

 

\----------

 

After a mild panic attack, running to the kitchen for a vanquishing potion, and Mick literally transporting into the kitchen in a column of blue orbing lights to stop him, he and the handyman were sitting in the living room, Wally nursing a cup of tea and Mick drinking a beer. 

 

“So, you’re a  _ what?”  _

 

“A Whitelighter,” Mick answered, taking another sip of his beer. 

 

Wally frowned. “What’s a Whitelighter?”

 

“It’s a protector of witches.”

 

Wally lit up. “Like a guardian angel?”

 

“I ain’t no angel,” Mick quickly argued, narrowing his eyes. Wally decided not to mention angels again. “We’re selected by the Elders--these dicks that control the goodness in the world or some shit like that--and we have to make sure the witches in our charge don’t get themselves killed.”

 

“And you were sent for us?”

 

Mick nodded.

 

Wally let out a low whistle. “You gotta tell Barry, man. He’s crazy about you, and this is gonna blow him away. The whole reason he hasn’t made his move, besides being chicken shit, is because he’s worried about you getting hurt by demons because of him.”

 

Mick chuckled humorlessly and shook his head. “I can’t tell him. And I can’t be with him...no matter how much either of us wants it. If we did and the Elders found out...it just wouldn’t be good. Whitelighters can’t have things with their charges.”

 

Wally frowned. That was...horrible. He thought about his own bad luck with love, and it angered him that Barry and Mick couldn’t be together over something so ridiculous. “No offense, but you don’t exactly cross me as a guy who follows the rules.”

 

“I’m not,” Mick answered, “but you don’t screw with the Elders. They may be the protectors of good, but they’re real dicks when they want to be.”

 

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared Wally in the eye. “You can’t tell him or your sister the truth about me.”

 

“Why not?” 

 

Mick shrugged. “The Elders don’t want you to know. They think that if you three find out, the demons and warlocks will and will target me to weaken the Charmed Ones. My mission was to keep it a secret for as long as I could.”

 

“So...by not telling them, it’s protecting you?” 

 

Mick didn’t answer, but Wally knew that he couldn’t say anything. He  _ wouldn’t. _ After all, it was their job to protect people. 

 

\----------

 

Barry was finishing up with an analysis when there was a knock on the door of his lab. He looked at his clock--six-thirty. The lab typically closed around six, but sometimes, cops came in later when Barry was finishing some case files to see if there were any results ready. 

 

“It’s open!” he called, not bothering to look up from his microscope. The door opened and closed with an almost silent click. “I’ll help you in just a minute.” He pulled away to write something down on his notepad. 

 

“No rush.” 

 

Barry jumped and spun around to face a smirking Leonard Snart leaning against the shelves of chemicals. 

 

When his heart started beating again, he narrowed his eyes at the lawyer. “What are you doing in here?”

 

Snart raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Well, I already cleared my client--you should let Detective Dibny know that search warrants are very important--and I thought that I’d come up here and see if you’d like to get some dinner.” 

 

Barry opened his mouth to answer and then closed it. He honestly didn’t know what to say. There was his usual ‘conflict of interest’ answer, but none of the cases he was working on were against Snart’s clients. He knew that he should say no, but he also knew he wanted to say yes. 

 

“I...uh…” 

 

Snart chuckled. “You can say no, kid. I’m not trying to strong arm you or anything.” 

 

“No!” Barry exclaimed, before realizing that it sounded like he was saying no to the date. “I mean ‘no’ like I don’t think your strong-arming me, not ‘no’ like I don’t want to, because I do. But I’m not dressed for a date, and my brother and sister will be worried, and we’re having family dinner tonight…” 

 

“Barry,” Snart interrupted with a grin. “I get it. Really. Family is important. Maybe tomorrow night, around seven?” 

 

He should’ve said no, that he had other plans. But there was something about Snart’s eye, a hopeful gleam behind his nonchalant exterior that gave away another side to the man. Barry couldn’t help himself. 

 

“Sure.”

 

Tension drained from Snart’s shoulders, and his smirk turned into a genuine smile. “Meet outside the station. And don’t worry about dressing nice. You look tantalizing enough the way you are.” 

 

He gave Barry a wink before exiting the lab. Barry blew out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He had a date with one of the most attractive men in Central City. He tried returning to work, but all he could think about was his date and what his siblings would have to say about it. 

 

—————

 

Len practically skipped out of the station, his heart bouncing at the thought of Barry accepting a date with him. To think, when he first started flirting with the middle West-Allen child—one of the Charmed Ones— he’d been planning on killing him for the Triad. Being half-demon, half-human, they thought it would be easier for him to get closer to the witch without raising any alarms. And they’d been right. Then, he started to actually get to know the kid. 

 

He was more than just a pretty face. He was smart, determined, fiery, and kick-ass if the stories were to be believed. No, Len couldn’t bring himself to kill someone like Barry. Not when there were so many other things he could do with him, more useful things. 

 

He continued walking towards the back alley behind the station, where he usually transported back to his loft. 

 

The sound of shifting light and magic behind him made Len stop. He grinned, not even turning.

 

“You know, I expected this months ago when I first started after the Charmed Ones. They’re too human to see my other side, but a Whitelighter should be able to tell when a demon is around their charge day in and day out. You seem to be slacking.”

 

The Whitelighter didn’t say anything, but Len could sense its power behind him. But it was hesitating...why?

 

He turned, but the Whitelighter was hidden in the shadow of the alley.  “Cat got your tongue?” 

 

Again, the Whitelighter stayed silent. Instead, he stepped out into the light, and Len’s heart fell to his stomach.

 

“Mick?” 

 

Mick Rory was the last person Len had expected to become a Whitelighter after death. Being half demon, Len had a longer lifespan than ordinary humans. He met Mick in 1864, the year before the end of the Civil War, not that Len gave a damn. 

 

He took mild amusement from manipulating soldiers from both sides, inciting fights and battles between them. Then, he met Mick Rory, a smuggler for both sides, making his money wherever he could get it. 

 

They nearly killed each other when they first met, only to become best friends and partners in crime as time progressed. Len never admitted to his feelings for Mick, mostly because of the times and how uncomfortable it would’ve made their partnership. 

 

Of course, now he knew that Mick didn’t discriminate gender, since he and Buffalo Bill had a thing in the early 1870’s. 

 

A laugh escaped. Then another. Before he knew it, he was erupting into full-blown belly laughs. “You’re...you’re a frickin’ angel!”

 

Mick scowled. “Not an angel.” 

 

But Len didn’t care. It was the funniest thing that had ever happened to him. “You--an arsonist who played both sides during the Civil War and set General Lee’s tent on fire once--are a Whitelighter! How did that even happen?” 

 

Mick rolled his eyes. “I don’t wanna talk about it. It’s not why I’m here.”

 

Len wiped a tear from his eye and calmed down his laughing. “I haven’t laughed that hard my entire life. No, you’re here to warn me away from the middle Charmed One.”

 

“It crossed my mind,” Mick admitted. “But then I remembered that you don’t give a shit about threats or people tellin’ you what to do.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Not completely stupid. Anyway, I decided that I was just gonna tell ya that it’d be in your best interest to leave it. Not because of any destiny shit, but because Charmed Ones one and three would vanquish you quicker than you could explain yourself if they found out. Not to mention their dad would shoot you, and I ain’t healing your ass.” 

 

Len nodded along like he was taking all of Mick’s advice into consideration. “And none of this has to do with the fact that he’s a hottie you’re not allowed to touch.” 

 

Mick glared as an answer, and a shit-eating grin stretched across Len’s face. “Okay, so I have a question--you can’t be with one of your charges romantically, right? But, technically, you could  _ watch _ , if you get what I’m saying, and it’s part of your jo--”

 

He was cut off by Mick grabbing his collar and violently pulling him close. “Don’t even.” 

 

“Touchy, are we?” Len taunted. Mick was so close to him now, all he could think about were those nights when all he could think about were the pyro’s hands on him, their lips pressed together, whispered confessions in the night. 

 

Huffing, Mick let go, pushing Len back. “I’m protectin’ both of ya. Leave him alone.” 

 

With that, he disappeared in a swarm of orbs, leaving Len alone in the alley. 

 

\----------

 

In the Underworld, a demon in a yellow robe met with Damien Darhk, the deadliest Darklighter who ever lived.

 

Wordlessly, he handed him a picture of his next target--the Charmed Ones’ Whitelighter. 

 

Darhk snorted. “Rory? This shouldn’t be too hard.” 

  
The demon chuckled. The Darklighter didn’t know it, but in taking the task, he’d set in motion a chain of events that would bring about a new age of evil. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ray Palmer couldn’t control the shaking in his hands. All nine of the locks on his door were set, his alarm was on, his windows shuttered. He was curled in the corner of his closet floor, trying to steady his breaths.

 

A light lit up his living room, and he covered his mouth with his hand. He found him. He knew he was home. How could he get inside?

 

Ray squeezed his eyes shut as heavy footsteps came into the room. They walked over to the en-suite, and Ray prayed that’s where they stopped. Instead, they backtracked towards the closet.

 

Crap, he thought. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to…

 

The door swung open, and he flinched.

 

“Haircut?”

 

Relief filled Ray as he looked up at the burly Whitelighter standing outside his closet. “Mick! Oh my god, I thought you were him.”

 

He threw himself out of the closet and into Mick’s arms. Mick just stood there awkwardly. “Whose after ya?”

 

Ray stepped back from the hug. “I don’t know...a man with white hair. He had a crossbow and tried to kill me.”

 

Mick’s eyes narrowed. “Damien Darhk. We gotta get you somewhere safe.”

 

“Why? What is he?”

 

“Something bad,” was all Mick said before grabbing Ray by the arm and orbing them out of his apartment.

 

\----------

 

Barry stood nervously outside the station. He pulled at the sleeves of his jacket--yeah, Snart had told him to dress casual, but he’d tore through his closet with Iris trying to find something nice to wear, and it was the only thing they could both agree on--and glanced up and down the sidewalk.

 

He glanced down at his watch--six thirty-nine.

 

Was Snart going to stand him up? Was this whole, relentless flirtation a bit joke to him?

 

The clock changed to six-forty.

 

“Ready to go?”

 

Barry nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t even heard Snart coming towards him, but there he was, standing behind him on the sidewalk in a black dinner jacket and slacks.

 

Barry blew out a relieved breath. “Yeah...sorry, I just…”

 

“Thought I wasn’t coming?” Snart finished for him. “Sorry. I’m usually more punctual, but I had some issues to deal with back at the office.” He held an arm out to Barry, who took it with a small grin.

 

\----------

 

Honestly, Wally was lucky he found out about Mick the way he did. He could’ve found out like Iris--with Mick orbing into the middle of the living room with a frightened man while she was reading a book and Wally was doing homework.

 

Iris screamed and leaped to her feet, and Wally had to jump between her and them. “It’s okay, Iris! It’s okay! He’s not gonna hurt us!”

 

“What?! You knew that our handyman is a…?”

 

“Whitelighter.”

 

Iris threw her hands up. “Whatever! You didn’t tell us?”

 

“He asked me not to! We weren’t supposed to find out.” He rounded on Mick. “Why are you just transporting in the middle of our house if you’re supposed to be keeping it a secret?”

 

“Didn’t have a choice,” Mick answered, leading the man with him to sit in one of their chairs. “He needs your help.”

 

Iris seemed to just notice the man, who was visibly shaking, and immediately, her anger melted into concern. She approached the man slowly. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?”

 

The man shook his head. “If it weren’t for Mick, I’d probably be dead. He said that you help people? People who are attacked by magical...things?”

 

Iris nodded, and Wally frowned at Mick. “How does he know about magic?” he asked. “Is he a witch?”

 

“Worse,” Mick grunted. “He’s a future Whitelighter.”

 

Iris looked between the two of them, confused. “What’s a Whitelighter?”

 

Mick sighed. “A protector of witches. We’re assigned people to be our charges, which sometimes include people who’re gonna be Whitelighters after they die. Like Haircut over there.”

 

The man smiled as best he could and gave a small wave. “Hi, I’m Ray Palmer.”

 

That’s when it hit him--Ray Palmer, billionaire philanthropist who donated over 2 billion dollars to help homeless children and save the rainforests. He was close to sainthood.

 

“The Elders keep an eye out for good people who watch out for others. They make good Whitelighters after death. One day, Haircut will do something that will tip the balance of good and evil. But there are creatures called Darklighters who’ll do anything to keep that from happening.”

 

“Darklighters?” Iris asked, falling back on the couch. Wally couldn’t blame her--this was a lot for him and he knew about Mick before now.

 

“Creatures that live to hunt and kill Whitelighters, make witches more vulnerable to evil. They carry arrows with a special poison that can kill any Whitelighter, and there’s no cure.”

 

“This guy...he won’t stop coming after me, will he?” Ray asked, hanging his head.

 

Mick shook his head. “They don’t give up their chase. He’s gotta be vanquished.”

 

“Can you do that?” He looked from Mick to Iris, to Wally with a hopeful expression.

 

Iris knelt at Ray’s side and took his hand. “We can. We won’t let him kill you, Ray. Sounds to me like you have great things ahead of you.”

 

He gave her a small smile.

 

“Wait,” Wally spoke up, “how do we know the Darklighter is targeting Ray?”

 

Mick and Ray both frowned in confusion, but Iris’ eyes widened. “Like what if he’s targeting Mick?”

 

“Because he’s the Charmed Ones’ Whitelighter?” Wally finished, both looking to Mick.

 

Mick didn’t seem the least bit bothered. “It’ll be fine. The house is warded--your mom made sure of that. It’d take more effort than I’m worth to break in here.”

 

“Well, that’s great for us,” Iris replied, “but what about Barry?”

 

Mick frowned. “He’s not here?”

 

“Can’t you tell where your charges are?”

 

“Not if they’re being blocked by powerful magic like someone doesn’t…” A knowing look appeared on Mick’s face, and he shook his head. “Barry’ll be fine. He’s protected, and I can still sense him if he gets hurt or if my name is called.”

 

Wally furrowed his brow. “Barry doesn’t know you’re a Whitelighter--why would he call your name for help?”

 

“He wouldn’t,” Mick replied, “but someone else might.”

 

\----------

 

Len couldn’t stop smiling. Like, genuine, ear-to-ear smiling. And, honestly, it was starting to be a problem.

 

He hadn’t expected Barry to be this wonderful--funny but not in a ‘trying too hard’ way; easy to open up and talk to; and, really, an amazing person to talk to. His stories were interesting, but he never tried to make himself seem better than he was. In fact, most of his stories were about him and his siblings growing up, or him and his stepfather when he first started at the precinct.

 

Len’s sides hurt from laughing after Barry recounted the story of using Detective Chyre’s pen to pick up a sample of feces, only to find out it was a family heirloom.

 

“I mean, why would you bring something that valuable to a crime scene?” Barry asked, taking a sip of his wine to hide the blush on his cheeks. Len had decided not to take him to some fancy restaurant. Barry was a special date. It could either end really well or with him getting vanquished. Either way, Len preferred his privacy, which was why he’d pulled some strings at the Italian place in his neighborhood and they set up a special table on the roof terrace for them.

 

Barry had been impressed. That was the only thing that mattered.

 

He skewered another piece of his chicken parm while listening to Barry talk.

 

“I just don’t see why I got written up for that, but sometimes, I think the captain hates me.”

 

“Not as much as he hates me,” Len replied with a smirk. “I take away from his arrest quota. Keep his officers on their toes.”

 

“Trust me, I know.” Barry chuckled. “If Joe knew I was here with you right now, he would have an aneurysm. You’re not the most popular guy at the station.”

 

“I’d imagine not.” Len took a sip of his own wine. “Which begs the question--why did you say yes to going out with me?”

 

Barry seemed taken aback by the question. He licked his lips nervously and sat back in his chair, looking everywhere but at Len. “Well...I’ve always been a good judge of character, I think. And you might be a bit annoying sometimes, but,” he raised his eyes, “I don’t know. I feel drawn to you. I can’t explain it.”

 

Len could--their magic. Barry’s magic was so strong, so powerful, it latched onto whatever power was the strongest around him. Unlike most people, Len knew how to pull at that connection. He used to try it to get Barry’s trust. Now that he’d decided to go a different route with him, he mostly did it to mess with the young witch.

 

Which reminded him…

 

“Barry, I need to be honest with you.”

 

Barry frowned. “I thought we were being honest with each other?”

 

“We are,” Len agreed. “But I haven’t told you everything. And, if this date leads where I hope it leads, I don’t want you to think that I tricked you or was taking advantage.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Barry’s frown deepened. “Do you have, like, an STD or something?”

 

Len huffed out a laugh. At least Barry’s mind was going the same place as his when it came to where the date was heading. “No, not that. It’s going to be a shock, but I want you to trust me enough to let me explain…”

 

But he never got the time. Black orbs appeared behind Barry, and Len knew that the magical world was rearing its ugly head. Without warning, he jumped up, grabbing Barry by the arm and dragging him from his chair just as a black arrow planted itself in the wood.

 

Len cursed. Damien Darhk stepped into the light, crossbow raised at Barry. Luckily, Darhk didn’t know Len’s human identity, only the demonic one he used when crossing into the Underworld every now and then. He wouldn’t be expecting Len to know about Darklighters and their ilk.

“Barry West-Allen. The middle Charmed One,” Darhk said. “You’re going to call your Whitelighter here so that I can kill him. If not, I’ll shoot you and your boyfriend in the heart.”

 

Barry’s brow furrowed. “What? What the hell is a Whitelighter?”

 

Len had to stop himself from laughing. Not only did he not know Mick was his Whitelighter, but he didn’t know he even had one. It was sad that no one was around to teach the Charmed Ones their curses from their incantations.

 

“Leave him alone.” Len stepped in front of Barry. “He doesn’t know what you’re talking about. You won’t find what you’re looking for here.”

 

Darhk didn’t seem the least bit discouraged, though. He shrugged. “He doesn’t need to. If I torture him--rip his fingernails off, flay him, skin him alive--his Whitelighter will feel his pain and come running to his side.”

 

He stepped closer to them, and Len could feel his demon side coming out. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing it down. He had to protect Barry, but he needed to keep his dark side in check. There was no telling what his...other side would do.

 

“Leave him alone,” Len repeated, but it wasn’t his voice that said it. The voice he used was dark, cracked, old. It was the voice that invoked nightmares and struck fear into many a brave man’s heart.

 

An arrow zipped out of Darhk’s crossbow. Without a lick of effort, Len snatched it out of the air. He opened his eyes to glare, and the arrow burst into flames in his hand.

 

Darhk’s eyes widened. “So, this is where you’ve been all these years. No wonder you haven’t had time for the Underworld, Belthazor.”

 

Len flinched at the name. He dared a glance back at Barry, who was staring wide-eyed at him. He knew what he looked like. His skin was devil red, with intricate black spirals on it. His eyes were black.

 

Len turned away. He didn’t want Barry to find out this way. He needed to get Barry out of there. If he could get Mick to orb Barry away, he could maybe defeat Darhk on his own. He could at least hold him off until they were in the safety of the house.

 

Mick! He called mentally. Mick, Barry needs you! We’re under attack!

 

He threw an energy ball at Darhk, knocking him to the ground just as Mick orbed onto the roof. If it were possible, Barry’s eyes widened more. “Mick?! You’re…”

 

“We don’t have time for this,” he growled. “We gotta get you outta here.”

 

“I’m not leaving without Leonard!” he argued, and, like a moron, Len froze in place. He still cared. He still didn’t want Darhk to kill him. Barry cared…

 

“You idiot! Look out!” Len hadn’t even realized that Darhk was on his feet again until he was on the ground, pinned under Mick’s body.

 

Darhk’s attention was so fixed on them, he didn’t even realize that the real danger was the witch in front of him.

 

Barry raised his hands and made an aggressive motion at the Darklighter. Darhk hadn’t seen it coming, and it was clear that Barry hadn’t seen it coming really, either. As soon as Barry waved his hands, Darhk exploded into nothing but shadows and darkness.

 

“I meant to freeze him…” Barry said, eyes wide. It was okay, though. Things were going to be okay. The Darklighter was dead, and Mick wasn’t.

 

At least, that’s what he thought, until the Whitelighter rolled off of him. That’s when he noticed the black arrow sticking out of Mick’s shoulder. The poisoned arrow, which had no known cure


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember--this is still the beginning. This whole chapter foreshadows future events in the story.

It took almost an hour for Barry and Len to drag Mick to the West-Allen house. By the time they made it to the door, Iris was already opening it to let them inside. 

 

“I had a vision not long after Mick left to find you,” she explained, helping them over to the couch. She narrowed her eyes at Len. “What’s he doing here?” 

 

So, she hadn’t seen  _ that much  _ of what happened. That was good--Len wanted to talk to Barry first before his siblings caught on to the truth. Unless that conversation ended with a vanquishing potion thrown at him.

 

Although, he was able to walk through the front door, meaning that Barry’s magic let him in. Maybe there was reason to hope.

 

“I was off with him when the Darklighter attacked,” he replied sharply, leaving no room for further questions.

 

Barry fell to his knees beside the couch. Mick was motionless and pale with an arrow still sticking out of his shoulder, and his eyelids were fluttering erratically. Barry stroked his forehead, and Len saw it. 

 

Barry cared about him. Maybe it wasn’t love yet, but there was something growing there. Something that could only flourish now that Barry knew he didn’t have to hide anything. Unless the Elders had something to say about it, that is. 

 

He wasn’t jealous, though. How could he be, when Barry came over to lean his head on Len’s shoulder to cry? 

 

“He’s going to be okay, Barry,” he promised, stroking his hair. “Mick’s too stubborn to die.” 

 

Barry choked out a laugh between sobs, and Len smiled sadly. He was going to keep that promise. After all, he’d lost Mick once. He wasn’t going to lose him again. 

 

\----------

 

Snart vanished about an hour after he helped drag Mick in. Barry wasn’t worried, for some reason. Even though Snart was a demon or something, he still helped him and Mick when given the chance. 

 

Barry hoped his instincts were right. 

 

Wally removed the arrow with his powers, but the poison was still in Mick’s bloodstream. He didn’t have long, and every resource they had said there was no antidote. Even the Book of Shadows had been useless. 

 

So, Barry did what he could. He kept the wound and bandages clean and stayed by Mick’s side. 

 

Mick, who was a Whitelighter according to Wally and Iris. 

 

Why did every attractive, available man who liked him keep secrets from him? He shook his head. “God,” he whispered to himself, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

 

“I was trying to protect ya.” 

 

Barry nearly jumped out of his skin. Mick was looking at him, eyes barely cracked open and skin still sheen from the sweat. 

 

“Shhh…” Barry used a rag to wipe his forehead. “It’s okay. You need to rest.”

 

“‘S not…” Mick grumbled, taking Barry by the hand and laying it on his chest, right over his heart. “You should’ve...been...the first...t’know.”

 

“We’ll talk about it later.”

 

“No…” He squeezed Barry’s hand with as much force as he could muster. “You...need to know about me.” 

 

Barry frowned and moved to sit on the edge of the couch cushion. “Know what?”

 

“What I’ve never told anyone. How I became a Whitelighter.”

 

He raised his other hand and pressed it to Barry’s forehead. Suddenly, he wasn’t sitting in his living room with Mick. He was standing in the middle of a town, like one out of the Old West. A man was walking towards the doors of the saloon, and Barry followed, knowing somehow this was who he was supposed to be watching. 

 

His thoughts were confirmed when the man removed his hat to reveal a younger Mick. He sat at the bar and ordered a drink. 

 

_ “I was a criminal.”  _ Mick’s weak voice echoed in his head.  _ “I didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything. Then, I met Lenny.” _

 

Barry hadn’t even noticed the man in all black sitting at the table farthest from the bar. When he spotted Mick, he rose to his feet and strolled up to the bar. He started talking, but it was like watching a silent film. 

 

The man tipped up his hat to reveal Leonard Snart, looking the same as ever. 

 

_ “I became a smuggler. Len helped me move stuff and killed anyone who stood in my way, and I got all the credit to hide that he was half-demon.” _

 

The image faded to Mick and Leonard arguing. Mick pushed Leonard, and the half-demon summoned an energy ball. There were tears in his eyes. Then the ball disappeared, and so did Leonard.

 

_ “I don’t even remember what we were fighting about. That was the last time I saw him before I died.”  _

 

That image transformed into another, one similar to so many seen in history books. A young, black man was leading a group of beaten down, ragged looking black people--slaves, Barry realized--through a forest. None of them were armed with anything but a lantern at the front. 

 

They all stopped like they heard something. The man in front raised his lantern to see, and Mick stepped out of the trees. 

 

_ “I was hired to smuggle them up North. Didn’t take the money--I never liked the idea of people owning other people. I took the job, though.”  _

 

The image changed yet again. Now, they were all hidden in the trees with soldiers firing guns at them. Mick was rushing the people towards an old barn for cover, but the soldiers were gaining. 

 

The people gathered toward the back door of the barn, but Mick paused. Instead of following, he grabbed the lantern from the conductor and told him something. The man argued, but Mick pushed him out the back door and locked it behind him. 

 

Then, he ran for a barrel of lantern oil and dumped it on the floor. When the soldiers finally poured into the barn, the doors shut behind them. 

 

That’s when Mick shattered the lit lantern on the floor. 

 

Barry gasped as he was pulled from the vision. “You...sacrificed yourself for all those people.”

 

Mick shrugged. “I knew they couldn’t outrun the soldiers. So many were sick, tired, and old. Some were children. It was only a matter of time. My life didn’t mean anything, so what the hell?”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Then, next thing I knew, I’m in a white room surrounded by a bunch of robed assholes who told me that I was chosen to be a protector. That I did something great that tipped the scales of good.”

 

“You did, Mick.”

 

Mick shook his head. “Nah. I did the human thing. I don’t deserve to be a Whitelighter for that. Never thought I did. Then, they assigned me you and your family, and I realized that  _ this  _ was the good thing. It still sucks, but at least you’re here.” 

 

Barry laughed a little, and Mick grinned. “I wanted someone to know, someone who wasn’t the Elders. I wanted you to see who I am.” 

 

“Well, you can tell me all about yourself once we heal you,” Barry replied. “You’re not going anywhere. We still need a Whitelighter.” 

 

Mick squeezed his hand again, right before his eyes started to flicker shut again. Barry cursed. 

 

“No...no, no, no, Mick!” He grabbed his arms and tried to rouse him again, but the Whitelighter stayed unconscious. Then, his hand slipped down lifelessly. 

 

Barry jumped back and covered his mouth. “No. No. Iris! Wally!” His siblings came running at his shout, only to pause in the doorway, their eyes wide with horror. 

 

Iris ran over to hug Barry, while Wally fell against the wall like his legs stopped working. They’d failed. Their Whitelighter was dead. 

 

\----------

 

Time around the Charmed Ones stopped, though none of them noticed. Not even Barry. Len materialized into the living room, taking in the scene. 

 

He’d searched all over the Underworld. He’d talked to every source of information there was. Darklighter poison had no tangible antidote. When he’d just been about to give up, though, a new answer came to him. One that he didn’t want an audience for. 

 

He sighed and moved to his best friend’s side. The arrow wound was nasty, with black veins surrounding it. He brought a hand to Mick’s heart. 

 

Mick wasn’t dead yet. He was nearly there, but there was still some fight left in him. Len swallowed hard and placed a hand over the wound, praying that what he was about to do would work, that he’d trusted the right person.

 

“Mick…” he whispered, “I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry that I pushed you away, and that I told you I never wanted to see you again. I was lying. I knew that the moment I disappeared, but I was too prideful to come back and apologize. Then, when I heard you’d died, I gave up on any ounce of humanity I had, because it hurt so bad. 

 

“We were given a second chance, in a time where we can be happy.” He glanced back at Barry for a split second. “I don’t know if this will work, but I read this Darklighter scroll that said their poison is created from darkness and hate. So, I’m going to fight it by telling you something.”

 

Even though he was the only one in the room aware of what was happening, he leaned in to whisper in Mick’s ear. “I love you. I always have, since the first time I set eyes on you in that saloon. And I need you to come back to me, because I’m not through with you yet.”

 

He concentrated on that feeling that he got when he first saw Mick as a mortal, the one that came again when he saw him as a Whitelighter. He focused on moving that power to his hands, and then, whether for Mick or for himself he wasn’t sure, he raised his head and kissed Mick’s cold, sweaty lips. 

 

At first, nothing happened. The room stayed silent, Mick stayed as he was, and Len didn’t stop kissing him. Then, his palm started to warm up. He knew there was a light coming out of it--a light that would’ve been impossible if his other half wasn’t human. He focused on all of his power into it, praying that this little miracle would be enough--a demon loving a Whitelighter. 

 

The black veins around the wound began to fade, the poison drawing out of it and into Len’s hand. Without his demon half, the dark and hate would’ve consumed him. He was told correctly--only someone like him could do it. 

 

The last of the poison left Mick’s body, and the slice in his shoulder began to fade away. Blowing out a breath, Len removed his hand.

 

Mick was going to be okay. Before time could restart, Len pressed another kiss to Mick’s lips, then rose to his feet and walked over to Barry, frozen mid-sob. He brushed a hair out of the witch’s face and sighed. How was he so lost on two of the most impossible beings for him to be with? 

 

“Take care of him,” he whispered, though no one could hear. “I’ll see you soon.” With that, he shimmered away, and time resumed. 

 

\----------

 

Barry nearly screamed when Mick arched off the couch, drawing in a deep, painful-sounding breath. The wound on his shoulder was gone--like, not even a scar left. The color was returning to Mick’s face. His eyes opened and locked onto Barry and his siblings. 

 

Barry pulled from Iris’ arms and ran to Mick’s side. “How?” he asked, searching for some sign that he’d just been injured, or something that explained how he was all better. But there was nothing. 

 

Mick took his fingers in one hand to stop his search. “I don’t know,” he answered, “but miracles like this come with a price.”

 

“I’ll pay it,” Barry said. “I’ll pay it again and again. You’re alive...well, not  _ alive _ , but y’know.” Then, he remembered that he’d been lying to him for years, and pulled away. “And you’re a lying sack of crap! You kept this from us!” He swatted Mick’s shoulder, and Mick pouted--like actually pouted. 

 

“I liked it better when you were happy I was alive.”

 

Then, Barry did something that neither expected. He bent down and kissed Mick, deeply and passionately. It was wonderful, like every good feeling in the world poured through him at once. After a few seconds, though, Mick turned away. 

 

“We can’t.” He shut his eyes and clenched his teeth. “If the Elders ever found out, they’d make us pay for it. They’d recall me, or maybe even hurt you. I wouldn’t put anything past ‘em. I ain’t risking it.”

 

Something in Barry’s chest tightened. He understood, but… “That’s not fair,” he said. “You deserve to be loved.”

 

Mick shook his head. “Nah. I had my chance. It’s gone. Now, I’m just the Elders’ bitch for eternity.”

 

Barry opened his mouth to argue, but Mick orbed away without so much as a goodbye.

 

\----------

 

Len hated the Underworld. Like, really? Fire and darkness? There was absolutely no originality. But, he promised he return with results, and he was a man of his word. He crossed the stone bridge over a chasm of fire to the Cave of the Knowing. 

 

Or something like that. 

 

Like the last time he came in, there was only one person inside, his head covered with the hood of his yellow robe. Len rolled his eyes. “Geez, Thawne, could you be more dramatic?”

 

The demon scoffed and removed his hood, revealing Eobard Thawne, advisor to the Source of All Evil. “You’re one to talk, Snart. I’m assuming it worked?”

 

Len rolled his eyes. “Yes, as you knew perfectly well.”

 

Thawne shrugged. “Maybe I like hearing how right I am sometimes.”

 

“What do I owe you for helping save Mick’s life? No one does anything for free.”

 

Thawne’s eyes turned red, revealing his demonic nature through his human facade. “The dark energy from the wound.” He held out his hand. 

 

Len frowned. “What would you want with that?”

 

“That’s for me to know,” Thawne answered. “You asked for my fee, that’s it.” 

 

Len considered it for a second. On one hand, Thawne wasn’t the most trustworthy demon there was. He never did anything without a motive. Then again, what was Len going to do with concentrated darkness and hate? 

 

Sighing, he held out his hand, and Thawne grabbed it. Len’s veins turned black as the power moved through his body to his hand until they finally reached Thawne. It took less than a minute to transfer it all, but Thawne acted like he’d just been given absolute power or something. 

 

Len raised an eyebrow. “We done here?”

 

“For now,” Thawne answered. “But soon, you’ll be needing something else for something much more dire. When the time comes, remember this moment and how I helped you save the Whitelighter you love.” 

 

The way he talked about Mick made Len uncomfortable. So, instead of answering, he gave a nod of acknowledgment and strode out of the cave, trying not to feel dirty for making a deal with a devil like Eobard Thawne. 


End file.
